|Sequel to "Tómas"
Overall rating: PG-13
Category: slash, adventure, humour
Other characters appearing: Lord George Cutler Beckett, Lt. Greitzer, Lt. Groves, Will Turner plus cameos by Prince Frederick of Prussia and Voltaire
Feedback: very welcome. Good or bad.
Author's note: I thought that "Tómas" was the weirdest story I've ever written. Well, I was wrong.
Summary: There is nothing that a leprechaun wouldn't do for his treasure, so all is not lost for James Norrington.
"This miserable festering furuncle on the arse of honourable mound dwellers," Gillette cursed. "How can I help to free him? A contract is a contract is a contract. The law is clear; he has to stay here until he either grants the mermaids three wishes or they release him by their own free will."
"Then we'll have to convince them that they want to get rid of him. Shouldn't be too difficult," Voltaire grumbled. "I wonder why Robert the accountant stays with him; there's no love lost between fairies and leprechauns, after all. Where are we heading for, if I may ask?"
"The orlop," Gillette replied. "If James was injured, they'd have brought him there. Maybe we'll find something."
"Tómas, why are you so certain that you'll find him? Not that I want to crush your hopes, but by all rules of natures, he's very likely - not among the living anymore," Voltaire said, wording his doubts as tactfully as possible.
"By all rules of nature, neither you nor I would exist."
There wasn't much to say to that, so Voltaire followed his cousin down steep stairs and past algae-covered broken planks, wondering once again why Gillette walked in the first place. He'd only have to blink! The many years among mortals must have damaged his common sense.
They had soon reached the orlop, a place that couldn't have been more different from Cutler Beckett's luxurious dwelling.
"Cousin Seoirse doesn't seem to come here," Voltaire said. "I can't say I blame him. What a forlorn and gloomy place. I don't think you'll find anything here, Tómas. Oh - what is that?"
He picked up an item from the ground, scaring a swarm of tiny fishes which hastily fled the place.
Gillette cast a quick glance at it.
"Oh, that's a tourniquet. You need it for amputations. To occlude the blood flow."
Voltaire quickly dropped the tool and wiped his hand off his coat.
"Ghastly, absolutely and truly ghastly!"
"That's very true," Gillette said, but Voltaire felt that his cousin wasn't talking about the medical instrument of torture. He stared intently into the dark and frowned. Voltaire tucked on his sleeve.
"What's happening? Is anything amiss?"
"We're not alone," Gillette whispered. "We're being watched ever since we've arrived here."
"We better leave then," Voltaire whispered back, and turned on his heel, but Gillette held him back by the sleeve of his coat.
"You that you hide from us show yourself!" he ordered, ignoring his impatient cousin. "You have nothing to fear!"
Something moved in the darkness, and after a few moments, a figure approached them. It was difficult to tell what or who the strange being was; while roughly shaped like a human, it was green and its movements were like algae drifting in the water. There was such an air of misery and despair about the figure that Voltaire quickly made two steps back.
"Good grief, what horrible creature is that?"
Gillette didn't seem to be scared; rather than retreating, he approached the strange being. There was something about it, something familiar; not in its looks though, which should have frightened any man, but that was just the point, Gillette wasn't frightened.
The figure hesitated, then reached out what might be an arm and emitted a wailing sound.
"Don't be afraid," Gillette said, holding out his hand. "We do not mean to harm you. Please speak now, if there is anything you wish to say."
Another soft wail, and finally, an unexpected clear, almost child-like voice could be heard.
"Mr. Gillette, sir, is it true? Have you come to save us?"
* * *
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|THE FLYING SCOTSMAN 9/18
by Molly Joyful